Two's Company
by SeverelySnaped1
Summary: Harry reflects on his relationship with Ron and Hermione


Two's Company

***

I suppose everyone would think it funny, that the Boy Who Lived would be so insecure as to have to write his feelings down on parchment in order to better understand himself. It's funny, isn't it, that one of the biggest targets of all time would resort to self-analysis in a time of terror, instead of preparing to die. 

Actually I don't seem to find it at all funny, not even mildly so. I think that this piece of parchment is proof that I've lost my mind. I think I've officially gone mad. Bonkers. Insane. 'Mental', as Ron would say. 

You see, my name's Harry Potter, and I don't like to talk about my feelings. 

Catchy, isn't it? Though I've never introduced myself that way before, everyone around me seems to know that already. 

And I like it that way. 

But lately, especially lately, I've been having these pangs of regret. Regret that I can't talk to anyone about my…well, my feelings I suppose. 

Of course, Ron and Hermione are there…but it's my feelings for them that I want to talk about, and I'd feel…well, awkward to say the least. 

And so I'm resorting to the trusty parchment and quill to save the day. Brilliant devices those—though terrible when they fall into the wrong hands. Example; a frightened first year with an enchanted diary. 

But let's not go there. The past is the past, and you shouldn't dwell on it. 

I believe that last sentence has just made me the Biggest Hypocrite Ever Lived. 

You see, I can't help dwelling on the past. Maybe because my past is so incredibly screwed over, or maybe because I'm actually getting older, you can decide. 

Someone told me the older you get, the more you reminisce. 

Actually, I think it's the former reason as to why I dwell on the past, since I'm only bleeding seventeen and I've had more run ins with evil wizards than crazed fans (and that's saying something). 

Or maybe it really is the latter reason, and I really am getting older, and I really, truly want my childhood back. 

Not my pre-Hogwarts, getting-chased-by-Dudley years, but those first couple at Hogwarts, those days when me, Ron and Hermione would have tea at Hagrids, or sneak into each other's dorms on Christmas morning, or, during the summer hols, just muck about the Burrow and play Quidditch in their orchard. Hell, I would even give anything just to go back to the days when we were hunting for information on the Philosopher's Stone. 

All right, maybe not go through the whole Quirrell thing again, but jeez, you see? You see how desperate I am? Next I'll be wishing Voldemort would drop by just so we could talk about old times or 'how many times we've tried to kill each other'. 

All right, enough beating around the Bludger, the reason I really started writing this stuff down, and probably the reason I'm reminiscing so much is because of Ron and Hermione. 

From the beginning it's always been us three. Harry, Ron and Hermione, the inseparable trio—the dream team, as one very greasy Professor said in our second year. 

Hang it, if I really am to go back to the beginning, then it all started with me and Ron. 

Me and Ron: back on the train, getting sorted together, laughing at rude jokes in the boys dorm on our first night at Hogwarts. 

And then came Hermione. 

Hermione: who, if you didn't know incredibly well seemed like a bossy know-it-all, a stickler for the rules, and probably the smartest witch in your year. 

Well, that's what me and Ron thought of her when we had first associated with her, though maybe not the whole 'smartest witch in the year' thing. 

But then something happened. Something bizarre and incredibly unlikely happened. Not the fact that we had to knock out the twelve foot mountain troll to save each other's lives, no. It was the fact that we both sort of liked Hermione afterwards. In fact, the truth was, we both secretly had a grudging admiration for her after that incident, and that's what allowed us to let down our friendship barrier; that fierce barrier that we'd put up because we were terrified of losing that best friend intimacy that we'd only recently procured, that same barrier—we put it down and allowed her in. 

And it sort of worked. Sort of, as in, she was still pretty disdainful of us staying up after curfew, while me and Ron still always sided with each other in arguments against her; but we did sort ofform an alliance with each other, and it was starting to give us all a sense of balance and stability. 

I guess it sort of gradually grew during our search for the information on Flamel; we slowly got used to her, she slowly got used to us, the whole suspicions over Snape pulling us closer together. But it was that eventful night of first year, when I was just making up my mind to go after 'Snape' to stop him from getting the Stone; that I realised they had taken for granted that they were coming with me. Not only Ron, but Hermione also had just assumed they were going to risk their lives alongside of mine. 

And it was then that I realised the full extent of our friendship, and, as I wordlessly watched them get ready my invisibility cloak and try out a few spells, a funny lump started swelling in the back of my throat. 

I had always shyly regarded Ron as my best friend, with Hermione as 'quite a good friend'. But then, as I continued to observe them, I realised that somewhere along the way, who knows when, Hermione had beaten down the term 'good friend', just as Ron had beaten down the term 'best friend'. 

They had both grown into something without equal; they were like the sun and moon in my life; I couldn't live without them, and I couldn't have one without the other anymore. 

From then on it had to be all three of us. Not just me and Ron anymore, but Hermione also. 

Now, I'd always known Ron was special, but Hermione? To be honest, I had secretly thought that she could never have what me and Ron had, and I had gotten a sort of childish kick out of this (hell, I was eleven). After this kick had come a dull sort of jealousy, but it wasn't too bad as it was so easy to side against Hermione with Ron on nearly everything anyway. I got a few more childish kicks out of that also. 

I suppose on the night of the Stone, I also realised that I shouldn't be jealous at all. See, the fact was, I had missed the whole plot. Hermione not only wanted to be friends with Ron, she also wanted to be friends with _me_. And I was simply blind to this, as protective best friends are. 

So, when I realised that, my bond with Hermione grew, and it occurred to me that she had become an integral part of me, of us. It wasn't just Harry and Ron anymore; it was Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

And that gave me a sense of bliss, a sense of belonging. They were who I was, and, six years later, they still are. 

Right, I've went and gone all emotional and mad again. Ah well, even if I did, that last line has brought me back to reality once more. See, six years later is the present day; six years later is now. 

And they're not. I mean, they're not who I am anymore. Not fully, not how we were 'all each other' back then. Though sometimes we have our moments, just like in the old days… But still, us three…we're not the same anymore. It's not that our trio has wavered, or drifted apart, or anyone's been fighting or arguing or anything. 

It's not our growing personalities, or our changing opinions, or the fact that the whole wizarding world is under attack by Voldemort. No, it's actually the stupidest reason you'll ever think of. It's stupid, insane, more insane than I am, probably. 

It's biological. It's physical. It's the fact that Ron and I are boys and Hermione is a girl. 

See, its quite normal at our age to yearn for a member of the opposite sex to be with…even if you do happen to have this wonderfully fulfilling friendship at the same time. It's human nature just to want more…and the fact that that member of the opposite sex happens to be _Hermione_, well, it's something I just can't help. 

It's impossible for me now, not to love her, or be _in_ love with her, and I know Ron feels the same. Maybe blame it on the utter warmness she seems to give off when she talks to you, or maybe just the charisma around her that reassures you that she's there, and she always will be—I don't know. 

But when I really analyse that quality of hers, really think about that charisma of hers; I realise that Ron gives out that same vibe… but it's not _his_ lips I'd like to be kissing. 

So, is it just my sexuality pulling me towards Hermione? And, if I were attracted to males, would I feel this unrequited attraction towards Ron instead? 

See, this is the moment where I get all confused. I care deeply for both my friends, but I'd only like to snog one of them. And I'm not talking about one of those stupid teenage crushes we're so fond at getting; it's deeper than that. 

As I stated before, we're all such a part of each other that we just _can't have_ silly crushes on each other, it would just be…well, _silly_. 

But then, most people would regard our unspoken love for each other as twice as silly, simply because if we love each other so much, why can't we just settle it between us and decide who marries who and be done with it.

But it's not like that, I can't choose, it's just not comprehensible; it's either all three of us or nothing. 

So I guess it means nothing. 

You see, I can't just change what we have; it would practically be a crime to ruin it. 

Also, I'd be terrified as to what it would do to our friendship; not just to me and Hermione if something didn't work out, but to Ron. To our perfectly balanced trio. To Ron. To Ron especially, to that fiery-haired person I would die for. 

Because nothing is worth losing Ron. Nothing is worth breaking up our trio for the sake of two. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to make out that me and Hermione have some sort of romantic love affair going on and Ron's the villain who just gets in the way; not even. In fact, if any, it'll most probably be the opposite. 

Ron's more perceptive than people think. They take for granted that just because he has a quick temper, he can't think straight. I pity them in a duel against Ron; they'll be eating their words in two seconds flat.

Ron's brilliant in his own way, in fact, you can analyse his points of brilliance just by observing him play chess. I don't know how he's so incredibly good at it when Wizards aren't supposed to have an ounce of logic, especially purebloods like Ron. 

But one thing can be said for sure, and everyone knows it, he's fiercely loyal. Especially when Hermione's involved. But what everyone doesn't know is that I'm just as protective—but not over Hermione; Ron has that covered no problem. See, I'm the one who looks out for _him_. And, subconsciously, I know that Hermione has got my own back covered. 

Yes, the balance strikes again. 

I think the triangle started to flow this way by Ron starting it. After that troll incident in the bathroom, he sort of took it on himself to keep an eye out for Hermione, as he felt it was him who made her cry in the first place. I felt the need to keep an eye out for Ron as I felt I was the only one who could hold him back when Malfoy or Snape got under his skin. And Hermione…well, Hermione's Hermione and I think she just likes to fuss over the two of us, but somewhere in the back of her mind she feels sorry for _me_ (which of course I dislike) but I do secretly enjoy the fussing.

So it's small things like this that makes me wonder whether she feels sort of the way I sort of do…whether she wants to maybe…well…you know. 

And sometimes I get hints like this, and I find myself trying to sit next to her instead of Ron and then feeling horribly ashamed afterwards. 

And again, you're probably screaming to yourself: just go for the girl, you wishy-washy sap! And may the best man win! 

But, as I said before, the best man in our books would want to keep the friendship how it should be: our trio. 

And I hope and pray while at the same time guiltily wondering whether I'm man enough to _be_ that best man…or if I'm low and desperate enough to be the worst.  

As far as our friendship goes, we're all pretty intimate with each other anyway. We sit close to one another; Ron especially doesn't seem to mind whether he's half sprawled all over you, probably because he's grown up wrestling with his brothers all his life, and Hermione likes to rest her head on Ron's shoulder or huddle up close to me when it gets cold—and it's just the little things that a discreet couple might do; all three of us seem to do with each other. 

Weird, eh? But what I believe to be weirder is the fact that I know Ron feels the same way as I do about Hermione and I can accept that. Plus the fact that I've sort of taken it for granted anyway, ever since the end of third year. 

And then there's the fact that _he_ knows I feel the same way he does. And that Hermione knows we _both_ feel that way about her. And that she feels…well, as to what she feels, I'm confused (and not just by my roundabout sentences). I'm genuinely baffled as to what _she_ feels about _us_. And I mean intimately, because I know she loves us both (as she's told us countless times) …but in what ways, I haven't the foggiest. 

As I said before, sometimes I get the hints; sometimes I observe Ron getting them. 

Comparatively speaking, Ron and Hermione are more touchy-feely than Hermione and I, ever since the tension between them after fourth year snapped and they'd been more relaxed in each other's presence than before. 

Hermione and I converse more than touch each other; she talks to me about lots of Muggle stuff that only I would understand, and loves to rattle off new theories of the Wizarding World to me that Ron would find dull. In turn I find myself telling her about my dreams of what I'd always aspired to do after graduation, and then I like to debate back at her when she voices her opinion on a new breakthrough in Wizard-Muggle science. 

I cherish these moments I have with her alone. And, for these periods of time, I allow myself to forget everything else: Voldemort, the battle, and sometimes, with a tinge of guilt, even Ron. And I start to believe, really think that she…she feels the same way I do, and I eventually go to sleep with a smile on my face.

But then I wake up and I see those two across the room, snuggled together in an armchair, laughing quietly at their own jokes. And I see them together, and I realise that it's them who should be together, not me and her, not all three of us, but them. 

But then I wonder, in this brief moment of insight, whether Ron feels this same way when he sees me and Hermione having a moment together; or whether I'm all alone in my musings of our perfectly balanced trio.

And so I put my opinion on who should be with whom on hold, just like I've done so many other times in the past. And I awaken loudly to give them time to break out of their own little world and come back to our central one, our world of three. 

And then we all move over to the crackling fireplace, where we roast our breakfast together and laugh and talk about the Weasley twins' latest merchandise. 

It's during this time that the bitter twinge of jealousy I'd been feeling is smothered by pure bliss; and I look at my two best friends and silently thank the fact that we have this, and that we're all doing our best not to ruin this, and that Ron is not left out of this, and that neither am I. 

For at this moment, we're all a part of each other again, and, though we're all starting to feel the tensions of adulthood; we'll always hold on to those childhood memories, those memories of all three of us learning together, all three of us growing together and all three of us being together.   

For you might think that two's company, but to me, three's a balance.

For it always will be—to me—_all_ three of us.   

***


End file.
